


thesis submission

by cumulus



Category: GOT7, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-23 23:12:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7483731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cumulus/pseuds/cumulus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Namjoon just wanted today to go perfectly, but apparently that was too much to ask.</p>
            </blockquote>





	thesis submission

**Author's Note:**

> i've been meaning to finish this namson forever, so i finally did so tonight. please let me know if you spot any mistakes because it is now 5AM and i'm sure i missed some but i really wanted to just post this. ;; hopefully i can do them more justice in the future! i adore them to the ends of the earth. i'm awful at writing porn so the end cuts out (sorry), but if anyone wants to write the porn sequel i would not be at all opposed. u__u see endnotes for additional extra cws, if you want them!

“You didn’t make me take a picture of this one.”

Namjoon trips over the shoes piled in the dark entranceway to their apartment, cursing as he catches himself against the wall. The hallway door slips closed as Jackson flips the switch behind them. Light spills out across their cramped living room.

Namjoon’s books are still spread out on the carpet. For the last three weeks, the semicircle they leave for him to stretch out in and make his edits has been a fixture of the room. The empty space feels jarring in the constant clutter of their apartment. Even now it feels like it’s beckoning him back to do more cuts, more notations, anything to make his work worth something for once.

His head throbs. “Didn’t what?”

“Your outfit.” Jackson’s hands lift up to Namjoon’s shoulders, helping him out of his jacket. “Normally you make me take like twenty shots from lunged down on the sidewalk.”

Plastic hangers clack together inside the closet as he hunts around for a place to hang it, his voice muffled into the small space and growing fainter as Namjoon makes his way over to the couch. “Not that I, you know, mind, I was all ready to do it when we left, but you didn’t even ask, so I figured maybe you just wanted—”

“Have you been trying not to ask me all night?” Namjoon folds himself into the furthest corner of the couch, stretching his arm up to shield his eyes.

Jackson grabs his wrist and pulls it away from his face, and Namjoon can’t hide the way he winces. Jackson’s pout morphs into a frown. He settles onto the middle couch cushion, pulling Namjoon’s head down to rest against his shoulder. Namjoon curls into him, hunched over with his leg thrown over Jackson’s shins.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You’ve been looking forward to tonight forever.”

“So? You know I would’ve cancelled.”

“It was so cute seeing you so excited about it, you know? I had this outfit planned and everything and I was going to take extra long getting ready and cleaning up so that maybe you could fuck me tonight if you wanted—”

“You know I won’t be mad right? If we don’t?” Jackson’s hand stills on his arm, and it’s only the pause in motion that clues Namjoon in to how soothing the touch had been. “We can just do whatever. I just wanted to spend time with you.”

“I know.”

“But that’s not all that’s bothering you.”

“Not entirely.”

“So?”

“So, there I am in the bathroom about to get in the shower, and then my phone rings and I don’t look at the ID and of course it’s my advisor, so suddenly I’m sitting on the side of the tub butt ass naked, listening to this list of new edits I have to make in case I missed the email, and realizing really quickly that my entire fifth chapter is shit.”

Jackson opens his mouth like he’s not sure if Namjoon is finished, but now that Namjoon has the momentum rolling, the words keep falling out of his mouth.

“And I can’t stop thinking about how I have to fix the entire mess in a month and make it somehow good, because this is getting published and it’s going to define my entire life, right? My entire career, at least, and what if I can’t get a job? What if I’ve wasted all of my time? So I just kind of. Sat there. I got up at some point to get dressed and make more edits but then it was 4:30 and you were coming home and I didn’t want to ruin our anniversary on top of, you know, my life, so now—”

“Woah, hey.” Namjoon looks up at Jackson, finally looks, and the weight of affection on his face makes the back of his throat dry up. Jackson lifts his arm from around Namjoon’s shoulders, but he links their fingers together with his opposite hand and lets them rest over his thigh. “I could tell something was off and I didn’t want to push you but babe, seriously, nothing would ruin my night as long as I get to spend it with you. And I really don’t think you ruined your entire life.”

“But—”

“I mean it.” Jackson’s thumb strokes over the back of Namjoon’s hand. His fringe falls into his eyes where they crinkle up when he smiles. He’s beautiful.

“Y-yeah. I know you do.”

“So you promise to tell me when something’s up next time? Because in case you’ve forgotten, we’ve been dating for five years, and if there’s anyone who wants to listen to your existential crises, it’s me.”

Namjoon slumps over into Jackson’s chest, finally letting go of a little of the tension held up in his shoulders. He inhales slowly through his nose. Jackson always smells so fucking good—a little like citrus, a little like charcoal, somehow, but mostly like home.

“Are you smelling me right now?”

Namjoon hums the affirmative against the placket of his shirt. “You ask this like you don’t smell me all the fucking time.”

“I’m not judging! I’m just wondering if you appreciate my—”

Namjoon’s torn between rolling his eyes and kissing him right on the mouth. “You want me to tell you that you smell good? Is what I’m getting from this.”

He pushes himself up and off Jackson’s chest with their joined hands against his thigh as leverage. It’s been a few years since Jackson has been able to train like he used to, but he’s still so much stronger than Namjoon, always so solid and firm underneath him.

“I mean, if you did want to compliment me, I certainly wouldn’t stop you from—” Namjoon throws his leg over Jackson’s, pushing himself along after it. He sways a little as he tries to settle into Jackson’s lap until Jackson steadies him with both hands on his hips. “Okay. This is good too.”

“You smell really fucking good.” Namjoon presses in close. Jackson’s breath hitches a little, caught in the back of his throat. “And you looked so hot tonight. These have got to be the tightest pair of dress pants I’ve ever seen. Not that I’m complaining.”

Jackson’s breath is hot against Namjoon’s neck, a little uneven. “Don’t think you’re getting out of this conversation, Kim Namjoon. You still haven’t answered me about the pictures. Trying to distract me with sex isn’t going to work forever.”

“Could work for a little while. I think you’re distracting yourself, don’t blame me.”

Jackson laughs, ducking down to press his mouth against the line of Namjoon’s jaw. He curves his fingers underneath the neckline of Namjoon’s sweater, pulling it out of the way to get to the spot on his neck that always makes his toes curl in his socks.

“Oh, sh-shit. Fine. It’s just. I had that whole outfit planned, right?” Jackson’s mouth makes a wet noise against his skin. Namjoon just knows he’s going to be wearing ties with his button downs for a solid week after this, but the pressure of it feels too good to tell him to stop. “But I looked like a mess after the morning and I wouldn’t have done that outfit justice so I just. It wasn’t how I wanted to look? At all. I wanted to look hot for you too.”

Jackson detaches with a loud pop that has Namjoon mentally upgrading his wardrobe for the week to turtlenecks. “You do realize that we share a bed? And that you snore? Like a monster truck? And that I still want to have sex with you pretty much all the time?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“My point—or, I guess my thesis—”

“Oh god.”

Jackson wiggles his eyebrows. “Is that you’re pretty hot to me just. All the time.”

“That’s not how a thesis works.” Namjoon settles his hands on Jackson’s chest, undoing the first few buttons of his black shirt so that the muscles of his chest peek through the gap. “You need—”

Jackson pulls Namjoon’s sweater up and over his head and tosses it towards the center of the room, but Namjoon doesn’t give in to the distraction. “—You need evidence for a thesis. And research.”

Jackson’s hand trails up Namjoon’s thigh, burning hot even through the fabric of his pants. He rests it at the crease of where Namjoon’s leg meets his hip for just a second, like he’s going to make him wait, but Jackson’s never been good at waiting for what he wants.

“Okay, so I need evidence,” he says. Namjoon’s already half hard when Jackson palms his dick, squeezing a little to feel him swell outwards against his hand. “This count?”

“Proving the wrong thesis. If anything this is just—god—proving how hot I think you are.”

Namjoon groans at the loss when Jackson lifts his hand away to pull Namjoon in with one hand on his cheek and the other on the back of his neck.

“You’re such a nerd.” He kisses Namjoon so achingly soft and deep that Namjoon has to catch his hands on the back of the couch to keep from melting right into him. Jackson’s stubble scratches along his cheek when he pulls away to kiss along the line of Namjoon’s jaw.

“A hot nerd?”

Namjoon half expects him to roll his eyes, but Jackson just laughs. It’s loud enough to echo through the quiet of the apartment, but it’s kind of perfect too. “The hottest.”

Namjoon unbuttons the rest of Jackson’s shirt, pushing it down his shoulders until it crumples behind him on the couch. On the way back up he smooths his hands over Jackson’s arms, stopping to squeeze at his biceps. When Jackson’s flexes it’s so endearingly obvious that Namjoon has to bite back the laughter bubbling up in his chest.

“I could see the muscles in your arms through your shirt. It was hard to stop staring all night.” Namjoon flushes, looking down towards Jackson’s chest. He knows Jackson needs this but sometimes it’s still embarrassing to say exactly what he’s feeling. “They looked so good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon breathes.

Jackson’s hands are warm and a little rough underneath the fabric of Namjoon’s tshirt. His thumbs stroke over his hipbones. “Can we just… I don’t know if my knee will let me for long but I really want to ride you? If it doesn’t work we can do something else but—”

Namjoon cuts him off with a kiss. Their mouths barely touch before he’s moving away again. “Has it been bad?”

“A little. I think it’s the pressure changes, it’s been pretty humid? But today’s the best it’s been in a while and I just. I just want you.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon says. His back cracks a little when he climbs off of Jackson’s lap and stretches his arms up above his head. “Me too. We can do that.”

“Great.” Jackson smiles, laughing as he twirls out of Namjoon’s reach and walks backwards towards the bedroom. He maneuvers around all of the books and empty water bottles that Namjoon is always knocking over with an ease that Namjoon envies. “I’ve been thinking about it all day and I listened to Pony all morning to get in the zone, and I’m so ready for this.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Jackson smiles. He flutters his fingers against the doorframe, already half into the room. “You love me.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon says. He doesn’t even think about his thesis as he steps through the space his books have left on the carpet. “I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> additional cws: anxiety re: school/future, mention of an old injury


End file.
